


There is nothing more cruel (than to be loved by anyone but you)

by neverending_shenanigans



Series: Dragon Age Prompt Exchange Fills [2]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angsty Schmoop, Canon Racism, F/M, Not Happy, Not super angsty just a little bit, Racism, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-09
Updated: 2019-07-09
Packaged: 2020-06-25 10:44:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19744084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neverending_shenanigans/pseuds/neverending_shenanigans
Summary: Kali Cadash smiles through it all. The crush and the crushing pain of unrequited love.





	There is nothing more cruel (than to be loved by anyone but you)

_“What do you think of it?” The human woman with the lilac shawl stood next to her, as she overlooked the place from atop a small hill._

_“It is overwhelming,” Kali said. And smiled._

If truth be told, she had seen it all before. The bustle, the excitement, the young and hopeful. Kali Cadash did not like being part of House Cadash’s dirty business, but it had meant that she had come around quite a bit, despite her young age. She was not the eldest child and by no means the most important member of the family, so she was expendable and always had been. Her mother liked to send her to spy on their enemies, supervise their allies, and to gather information on anything that could influence their business.

So Kali had seen young mercenary groups trying to gain a foot in Thedas, excited for adventure. She had seen religious hopefuls founding churches and setting up new villages. She had seen bustling new trade routes of the idealist types trying to better the world. She had not yet seen much of politics, however. It was why she had actually been excited for the Conclave. Pity that she couldn’t remember a thing about it. So in that sense, this situation was new.

And she had also never seen so many people of so many races in one place. Some Vashoth mercenraries, city elfs, dalish elfs, noble humans, common humans, Orlesian humans, Fereldan humans, mage humans, Templar humans, Chantry humans, surface dwarfs, and probably other members of the Carta. During her first days in Haven she tried to mingle with most. She was curious by nature – which was why she was good at her job.

She was also easily overlooked. She was inconspicuous. She didn’t stand out. Brown hair, brown eyes, fairly tanned skin for a dwarf. She was made to blend in. Listen to what the people were really saying and thinking about this. Figure out the people whose prisoner she yet remained.

And if she ended up watching the curly haired commander train this rag-tag group of recruits and mercenaries a little longer than strictly helpful or necessary, what was the harm, really?

* * *

_“So, what do you think of him?” Master Thetras asked, as he caught her observing the Commander training his recruits again._

_“I don’t know yet. What was his name again? I can’t seem to remember,” Kali said. And smiled._

If truth be told, she had seen him before. It had been a decade, but she would recognize him anywhere. It was hard not to, with that curly hair of his. Cullen Rutherford.

The Templars in Kirkwall had always been good “customers” for House Cadash, and the city was rotten to its core. This made for good playing grounds for young members of their family when they were introduced to the family business. She had been barely eighteen years when her mother had sent her there for this very purpose.

Some new smugglers had been entreating on the family’s turf and she and her older brother had been sent there to first figure out who it was and if they could be poached – her job – and if not eliminate them – her brothers job.

Kirkwall had not been her favourite city. There was a certain charm to it, yes. To some parts of it. To the energy, the craftiness of its citizens. But she couldn’t really like herself in that place. Didn’t like what her eagerness to please her mother had made her do.

Particularly to one eager, addicted Templar. The Templar that had been kicked out. Sampson. An addict was a good source of information, she had thought. She had what he wanted, and he could give her what she needed. Child’s play, she had thought. She had learned better when she had realized that an addict would also tell you anything you wanted to hear for his next fix. And she had dropped him for it, in a situation much worse than he had been before she had messed with him.

It had left her confused, angry and ashamed. And she had observed another Templar trying to fix what she had broken (or had had a hand in breaking _more_ ). He had never found out about her, she presumed, but he had known that someone had been giving lyrium to Templars in exchange for information and had tried to put an end to it.

Cullen Rutherford had then been an obstacle for her. She had talked to him, once, to assess him. Posing as a refugee from Ferelden she had approached him on his patrol through the city. And her assessment had been mixed: A Templar of the sort that was not good for business. Someone her brother had noted down as “difficult”. But also someone who had not let slip even one snide remark about dwarfs or refugees. He had been a little stiff, but helpful. She had secretly been glad when they agreed that eliminating him would ultimately not help House Cadash. And it was only partially because of his curls.

And she had recognized him right away when she had met him again in Haven’s church. Part of her was a little wounded in her pride that he hadn’t recognized her, too – and part of her was very relieved.

* * *

_“You and the Commander don’t see eye to eye on whom to recruit for this, do you, Boss?” The leader of the Mercenaries that had joined their cause recently speaks up next to her. She hadn’t noticed his approach, or else she would have made sure that he wouldn’t catch her staring at Cullen leaning over the map, placing markers._

_“I just haven’t made up my mind yet, The Iron Bull,” Kali says, and excuses herself with a smile._

If truth be told, she liked watching him more than talking to him. Commander Cullen was much different from Knight-Captain Cullen of Kirkwall. There was more softness to his lips, less of the haunted expression and grimness in his eyes. (And yes, the curls also were different)

But there was also still his stiffness, even if it was different. There was also still a distance. Not just the height, and not just the distance between Herald and Commander. She couldn’t quite place her finger on it. And it was not a distance easy to bridge. Especially because she was still worried that even after a month, he might suddenly remember her.

So she occupied herself with bridging other distances. Like the distance between herself and Varric, who had certainly also not been her biggest fan. He certainly knew what the name ‘Cadash’ meant on the surface, after all. But it was a distance that was easily bridged with mutual experiences of what it meant to be a surface dwarf who really didn’t care one way or another for “the stone” or other dwarf-y shit and a bottle of wine.

Sera she would consider almost friendly, though she was hard to get a certain grip on. But she knew how to talk to her, and how to approach her, and there had been a couple of evenings with shared stories, rowdy tavern songs and a beer in the Tavern, too.

She had also begun to bridge the distance between herself and Cassandra, which was created most likely by Kali’s insistant refusal of being called “Herald” and her earlier prisoner status. But Cassandra was a smart and honourable woman who had practically confronted her own prejudice without much prompting to on Kali’s part. And when Kali had told her that her refusal to be seen as a “Herald” was not a slight to her faith, or even a lack of faith in the first place, but more the terror of it being a very misplaced moniker, Cassandra had become a lot more kind towards her.

It was more difficult to find common ground with the apostate, Solas. They were opposites in many ways, and she hardly could understand a word out of his mouth. He was a droll sort, but almost everything he talked about sounded like poetic gibberish to her. His talk about dreams and the fade and magic in general. But she was willing to listen, and she had noticed that this was something he, in turn, had begun to extend to her.

She had found a true friend in Lace Harding. Maybe it was because they were in the same business, or had made so many similar experiences. Maybe it was because of their unexpected shared humor. Maybe it was because of the straight-up dwarfen kinship.

There was no distance between her and the Ambassador after only a few weeks, in which Josephine had been delighted to hear that Kali had spent some very formative years as a young girl in Antiva, learning the business of trade – and smuggling – from an Uncle there. Kali had noticed that Josephine tended to see the smuggling business a lot more romantic than it was – more adventurous, more dashing through twilight cities, more secret letters and honour-among-crooks rivalries, that sort of thing. And Kali shamelessly induldged her in that.

And even the Spymaster seemed to seek her out for a couple of conversations and was appreciative of her knowledge on how to operate a spy network. Or at least, on how to employ it usefully. It wasn’t exactly “closeness” but it was “respect” and that was all fine and good in her book.

And she would probably never really get any closer to Madame de Fer. That one reminded her too much of her mother.

So what did it hurt if one member of this rag-tag group she had joined was seemingly not warming up to her yet? What damage was it to her if he continued calling her Herald or Lady Cadash, where almost everyone else had easily slipped into nicknames and ‘Kali’? She was overly aware of him, that was what this was.

She needed to confront this.

Some other time.

* * *

_  
_

_“You fancy him, don’t you?” Varric said, bluntly. He had seated himself at her side, as she was once more on that small hill that allowed her to overlook Haven._

_It was late, and below they could see Cullen giving last instructions newly joined Templars in their ranks. Ser Barris was by his side, aiding him in this. They would seal the Breach tomorrow. Getting drunk was a bad idea. But maybe this was her last chance for it._

_“The wine? Oh yes, I fancy that one,” Kali said, with a smile, pouring more of it into her’s and Varric’s cups. Varric’s expression told her that she didn’t really fool him at all._

If truth be told, she was very sure that at least three more people had come to the conclusion that something in her behaviour towards the Commander was off. The Iron Bull was sharp and quite often seemed to catch her ‘by accident’ when she was staring. And the spymaster had all but told her that Cullen had baggage and she would be more than happy to elaborate, if need be.

And now there was Cole. Cole hovered. Eversince he had appeared in the war room, he seemed to just appear in her vicinity. Maybe he never left it. Possibly hadn’t since Therinfal Redoubt. She still wasn’t entirely sure why.

Magic didn’t exactly make her uncomfortable, but it was just not a thing she connected to – quite literally. She understood spirits even less. As a concept they made little sense to her. So a ghost boy that seemed to be able to mind read and seemed attached to her out of the blue was a bit weird.

But he was … a good boy. Of sorts. He was innocent. He reminded her of the children the Carta used to gather information: More aware of the things that happened around them than others might give them credit for, but without a deeper understanding of them. Like that dying soldier and his pain.

And her feelings. He seemed to appear at her side a lot after council meetings, or in the early mornings when she watched the troops train. It had become a habit and Cole inquiring about it – or speaking her thoughts out loud, as if to question her on them – had certainly reminded her of why she had started it.

Cole had assured her that Cullen didn’t remember her. That she didn’t have to worry. That he only saw in her the Herald, not the smuggler. And then he had asked why she didn’t feel better now. It wasn’t something to explain.

He also assured her that no one questioned her motivation for choosing the Templars, even if she did. For days he popped up with appreciative thoughts of other people on her, and seemed to grow agitated when they didn’t appear to help.

And usually, she’d feel very uncomfortable with him peering into her mind like that, but again – you didn’t blame a nug for eating your salad, did you? She couldn’t blame Cole for what he was. But she couldn’t really explain herself well. That wasn’t something she did. She distracted. She lied. She mislead.

So she tried that with Cole, too, and tried to distract him with other people’s issues. The uncomfortable thing was when that didn’t seem to work.

* * *

_“I have a question for you, Inquisitor. Doesn’t our Commander seem a little stiff to you? Why do you look up to him? Or am I misunderstanding that?” Dorian was lounged on the battlements next to steps she was sitting on, watching her watching Cullen organize the troops settling into their new base of operations._

_“Of course I do. It’s the height difference,” Kali says with a little laugh. “Same as you and The Iron Bull, isn’t it?”_

If truth be told, the whole ‘looking up’ thing had her stomach in knots these days. Ever since Cullen had stared up at her when she had (somewhat reluctantly) promised that the Inquisition would stop Corypheus no matter what it was on her mind. A game of tug in her brain. Her stomach doing a little flip at the admiration in his eyes. The voice of reason that there were more important things now. The voice of doubt – had he looked at her or the Inquisitor? There was a new look to his expression now. She had first seen it when they all had sung in their darkest moment with Mother Giselle.

Was the Inquisitor another mantel that she had taken on that would obscure Kali now? She had already noticed how disembodied the Herald was. People were surprised still, sometimes, when they met her and found her to be a dwarf. Surprised and disappointed. How much more dire would that become now?

She didn’t like people actually looking at her. It probably shouldn’t bother her. Blending in and being invisible was her whole thing – in the Carta, on the battlefield. But that was easier said than done when it came to people sometimes.

It’s not that she wanted attention, but it was hard to deny that the more positive expressions were something she was growing more comfortable with. She had once expected people to be disdainful or at least disrespectful. When had that stopped?

And who was she to now wish for a little less admiration and more … more what? What exactly did she hope to see in his face?

More of Varric’s brotherly affection? More of Bull’s fond amusement? More of Sera’s mirthful delight? More of Lace’s teasing sparkle?

Or just more of the expression she had seen on his face when he had talked to that noble Free Marcher Soldier? He had blushed. Why didn’t that blush leave her mind.

She didn’t really expect to be best friends with everyone. She had never been the person to be everybody’s darling. She was irked more and more by her own thoughts everyday. This was becoming ridiculous.

* * *

_“You know, that was quite bold of you, Boss. You okay?” Bull said, leaning against the door frame from the battlements to the upstairs entry to the tavern. His expression seemed relaxed, but it was just a tad bit too relaxed._

_“Oh, come on. It was just a little flirting,” Kali said. She threw in a wink, for good measure. “Just wanted to let off some steam. Don’t say you hadn’t thought about it, too.” What Kali truly wanted to do was bury her head._

Truth be told, it had been anything but casual. It had been embarrassing and it had taken her days to work up the courage. Weeks even. She regretted listening to Lace at all. Lace was a romantic at heart. She had been convinced that Cullen was just a little dense and if she would be more forward in her flirting, she could get a blush out of him as well.

It had seemed to go so much better than before. Cullen had trusted her, they had talked about his situation with Lyrium and she had convinced him to stop taking it. (Secretly vowing to smash her own familie’s business with Lyrium as soon as she got the chance.)

Lace had been convinced it was a good sign. And maybe she had just… maybe she had misread him? So she had tried, to work up to the forward thing. A wink here, and nudge there. Even some casual innuendo. She even had once gotten him to blush, but more often than not it had seemed to go over his head, or he had seemed confused at best.

And then it had sort of just… blurted out of her. They had been wandering the battlements, as they sometimes did now, when she asked how he was doing. He spoke in earnest of his responsibilities, of the strain and the exhaustion. And then he had laughed. Had done the thing he sometimes did, where he rubbed his neck when he thought he had said something stupid or if he was uncomfortable. The thing that made her heart flutter a bit. He had asked her how she was holding up, since it must be worse for her, right?

She had meant to laugh, and smile, and just say something to the effect of it being all fine and dandy. Instead she had said that some shared company could make it easier for both of them.

He had stared. Had done the neck thing again, and this time her heart had dropped a little. He had cleared his throat three times in the single sentence that he couldn’t offer that at the moment, and he hoped he had not given her a wrong impression.

Before he continue on, she had laughed, winked. Played it off as a joke.

She wasn’t sure what was more painful in the constant replay before her inner eyes: the shocked stare at her words, or the relief when she had called them a joke.

* * *

_“She is in pain,” Cule intones next to her, questioningly._

_“She is in love,” Lace chips in._

_“She is in denial,” Varric retorts, with a sigh._

_“She is right here and perfectly fine, thank you very much,” Kali grits through her teeth, and continues her march across the Courtyard, avoiding to look towards where Commander Cullen and the girl (Evelyn Trevelyan, her mind supplies. Not that she had inquired.) were obviously flirting._

If truth be told, all of them were correct in their assessment to some degree. She was in love with him. And it hurt. Because Cullen was so obviously not into her. But that wasn’t helpful at all, was it?

Especially not because Cullen and her were talking more now. They were becoming at least friendly. So, yes. She had chosen to deny herself an inkling of further interest in him. She would also deny that to anyone who asked. She would deny them for as long as necessary until it was true.

She’d rather have a good working relationship with the Commander than none at all.

* * *

_“She’s not even all that pretty,” Dorian spoke up suddenly next to her, making her jump. She had been too absorbed in watching Cullen help Trevelyan gear up for what was waiting for them at Adamant. “No, that’s not true. She is pretty. But she’s no prettier than you.”_

_“Oh, but she is. And she is not the Inquisitor,” Kali said. With a smile._

And truth be told, if it were just that Kali could stomach it more. If Cullen’s sense of duty was what kept him from seeming her as a person beyond the title, and that would be that. There would be nothing to change it because Kali wouldn’t and couldn’t give this up. All there could be would be a hope for “later”.

But that wasn’t truly it. He was less formal with her by now. He treated her with obvious respect, but in the past weeks it had become just a fraction more casual.

They had conversations by now. Occasionally. When she was wandering the courtyard or the battlements, like she often did, and they ran into each other. Or even after the war council, sometimes.

But there was something else. She had realized that recently in his interactions with some of the troops and the mercenary. And herself, of course. He did look at her differently – but he also looked that way at Adaar and her mercenaries. At Lace, when she gave scouting reports. There was something lacking compared to how he looked at Trevelyan, sure. But even compared to how he looked at Leliana, Josephine and once even Madam de Fer.

So the thing was… the thing was … it wasn’t just that Evelyn wasn’t the Inquisitor…

It was that she was … human.

And though there wasn’t anything she could change about that either, this pain was quite different. It was an old, festering wound cut open.

But what could she do?

So she smiled.

Kali continued smiling.

* * *

If truth be told, she wasn't even surprised. And that was what hurt the most.

**Author's Note:**

> The original prompt over at dapromptexchange on tumblr was:
> 
> Cadash has a huge crush on Cullen but he is, at best, formal around her and doesn’t seem interested in anything more. When she sees him flirting with a pretty human girl she is heart broken. Is it because she is a dwarf? It’s already been so hard as Inquisitor when no one trusts you or respects you. But for her race to come in the way of love just seems especially unfair.
> 
> It’s not my fault that this one became a little angsty and sad. The tag “unrequited love” demanded it, okay. Also, “electroshock blues” by the eels was on my playlist. Also I am a salty asshole and nothing will ever stop me from bitching at these weird romance option details and spite-writing specifically against race-related preferences.  
> (I still have the theory that it was all done to hide Solas' weird, plot-relevant choices in plain sight.)  
> (Yes, i have found a way to even blame this on Solas.)


End file.
